58 A THORN-TREE NEST. 



was over, and became much more wary. The 

 singer came less frequently, and was received in 

 silence. Also he took me under strict surveil- 

 lance, perching on a dead branch of the maple- 

 tree, and sitting there half an hour at a time, 

 motionless but wide awake ; ready, no doubt, to 

 defend the nest if I made hostile demonstrations 

 toward it. 



For a long time I had my lonely road to my- 

 self, almost the sole passer-by being a boy who 

 drove the village cows back and forth, and whom 

 I had taken pains to interest in the safety of the 

 little family. But such a state of things could 

 not last. One morning, as I sat in my usual 

 place, I noticed a party of girls starting out with 

 baskets and pails after berries. They scattered 

 over the meadow, and while I trembled for 

 meadow lark and bobolink babies, I hoped they 

 would not see me ; but one of them came di- 

 rectly to the thorn-tree. As she approached, I 

 turned away, as if I had no particular interest 

 in the tree, but, unfortunately, just as she was 

 passing, the bird flew off the nest. The girl 

 looked up, and instantly shouted to me, " Oh, 

 here 's a bird's-nest ! " " Yes," I replied, know- 

 ing that my best policy was to claim it, " that 's 

 the nest I am watching." After a sharp look at 

 the tree she went on ; but I was much disturbed, 

 for I regard a nest discovered almost the same 



